Final Solution
by Seastone Chair
Summary: We need to be strong, Bruder, we need to be one." The day before the Nazi Final Solution was set in motion; Prussia has doubts. Germancest. YAOI. Twoshot. Second chapter is back up!
1. You may be a sinner but

Okay, my first attempt at Germancest! I think these two really need some more loving! Although... I do like GermanyxItaly much better... I still think that Prussia NEEDS somebody to loooove. D: Other than me, of course.

This is dedicated to an amazing artist on DA: cretica

I'm a bit embarrassed to tell her this is actually for her... so please tell me if you think I should! That means you should REVIEW. (;

Enjoy!

WARNING: RATED M FOR STRONG YAOI.

* * *

They needed to be strong for each other. They couldn't doubt the others intentions or actions, especially in time of war. Prussia had taught Germany to trust and be loyal to his superiors, including Prussia himself. And Ludwig had done exactly that. Never once had Ludwig failed in his duty; he never questioned once what his job was, and Gilbert was proud of his younger brother. Ludwig had, unsurprisingly, surpassed his older brother both in maturity and in growing to become a strong nation.

So when a new and strange feeling nagged at the back of Gilbert's mind as he heard Hitler announce that he was now dictator of Germany, the older country didn't know what to do. Normally, Prussia would gladly voice his opinion, but this time he didn't know _what _to say. Surprise, surprise.

It was only when Ludwig was telling Gilbert about the "Final Solution" did that feeling bloom out and overtake Gilbert's thoughts. "Bruder," The albino interrupted his younger brother. "I don't like this." Gilbert was so blunt that Ludwig looked taken aback for a minute.

The two brothers were sitting in Germany's large office. Ludwig was sitting in a large chair behind his desk, and Gilbert sat in a slightly smaller chair across the desk. The room was painted in a warm crimson color with a gold pattern bordering the walls. All the furniture was black. It was a 'gift' from their boss. Talk about German pride; the room was the color of their flag. Red, Gold, and Black.

Ludwig rose an eyebrow at his brother, quickly gaining his composure back. "Pardon?" Gilbert smiled inwardly. His younger brother was always so polite.

"You heard me. Do you really think this is necessary? To kill all these people?" Back when Prussia was a dominating Empire, he wouldn't have a second thought about mass murder. As long as he became powerful in the end, the ends justified the means. But the times changed, morals changed, and Prussia fell from being a powerful Empire.

"It is necessary for the superior race to declare their dominance—"

"Don't give me such a bullshit answer!" Gilbert stood up abruptly, slamming his hands on the desk, effectively silencing his younger brother. "Don't give me what you've been _brainwashed _to say. I want to hear _your _answer." Gilbert growled, leaning across the desk towards Ludwig.

It took all of Ludwig's willpower not to lean away from his older brother. When Gilbert was as serious as he was now, it frightened the powerful German country. The older country was usually so carefree and reckless, such behavior like now was unnerving. It was so rarely shown.

"We… we need to stay strong Bruder. Never before have we doubted each other—"

"Never before have we killed our own people!" Gilbert, for the third time, interrupted Ludwig. The Prussian country ground his teeth together and stood up from the desk, taking a few steps back. He let out a heavy breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. "At least it won't hurt you, mein Bruder." He mumbled quietly.

"What?" Ludwig furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion. Gilbert was silent for a moment before he opened his eyes. That usual arrogant grin was forced on his face, and his red eyes were dull.

"We need to be strong, Bruder." Prussia changed the subject. Ludwig's eyes widened at the statement. Blue eyes flicked to the door, seeing it was locked, and then back at his brother.

"We need to be one." He recited his usual phrase back before they did what was tradition. Before every war or every battle, they had to become one so they could conquer and think in sync. Or else they would fail miserably from miscommunication and doubtful consciences.

Gilbert walked around that beautifully polished desk, turned the ridiculously huge chair to face him, and climbed onto his brother's lap; thighs straddling Ludwig's hips. The younger man's arms encircled Gilbert's waist and pulled him close. A smirk spread across Gilbert's pale lips as he felt the other German's heart pounding. He loved how he could have that affect on the blonde; it showed that he still had some power in this world.

Those pale lips viciously attacked Ludwig's lips; one hand in that soft, slicked back hair while the other hand worked at unbuttoning the black S.S. uniform the blue eyed man was wearing. Ludwig let out a groan of heated pleasure and slight pain from when the silver haired man nipped his lip hard enough to draw blood. Gilbert sucked on that lower lip, the metallic taste of blood faint on his tongue.

There were plenty of differences between the two brothers, but they did have one thing in common. They were both masochistic. Gilbert was open about his painful pleasure seeking; while Ludwig was more of a closet masochist. Ludwig could most definitely not be an open masochist around his Italian friend. It might scare off poor Feliciano.

Ludwig eased his tongue into Gilbert's mouth, going slower than the albino would have liked. So, Gilbert instead took dominance and shoved his tongue into the German's mouth. As the kiss deepened, the Prussian managed to fully unbutton that damned uniform top and his hands were immediately roaming all over Ludwig's firm chest; under the black undershirt the younger man was wearing. Gilbert rocked his hips against Ludwig's, eliciting a deep, alluring moan from the man.

Prussia drank in the moan and broke the kiss for a moment. A small trail of saliva connected the brother's lips as they panted heavily. "_Gott, _Bruder…" Ludwig breathed out. His older brother always knew the best way to easily arouse him. In no time at all, Gilbert managed to unbutton and slide off his own dark navy uniform shirt. The man had obviously known what they were going to do today, for he wore no undershirt like his German brother had. Blue eyes stared at that amazingly toned, pale body of his brother. It was slim and hard as Ludwig's hands eagerly needed to touch every part of his brother's hot skin.

A seductive smile spread across Gilbert's face as he leaned in to nibble on Ludwig's ear, whispering, "Guess what else I'm not wearing…" Just those words sent the German's mind into a frenzy. The Prussian was so delicious when he was as aroused as the younger of the two was.

"Gilbert…" Ludwig groaned out, his voice laced with lust and passion. Normally, Gilbert would have taken complete dominance over the situation and most likely would have brutally fucked his brother. Not that they both didn't like it, but today wasn't a day for normal actions. Today was the day Gilbert had to unwillingly follow his younger brother's decisions, so this was his first act of surrender.

Gilbert stood from the chair to quickly unbutton and unzip his trousers, letting them fall from the floor. He knew that Ludwig wouldn't get the idea, so he had to suck up his pride and take matters into his own hands. It took all his power to bend over that desk and leave himself open to his inexperienced partner.

Ludwig stared with wide eyes at that unbelievably gorgeous ass that Gilbert was presenting for him. Usually the brother's had to fight over dominance in this sort of situation, but not today. Today, it seemed, Gilbert _wanted _to be taken. Without another second of hesitation, Ludwig reached down to the Prussian's pants, grabbed the lube the man always carried with him, and dropped his own trousers as he stood up.

It seemed like an eternity before Ludwig had pushed two lubed fingers into Gilbert. The pain was slight and only lasted for a minute or two as Gilbert was prepped. As a third finger was added, they crooked up, making Gilbert gasp out in pleasure. "Do it," He hissed as red eyes squeezed shut. Gilbert was making this way too easy for Ludwig…

Those two words fueled the German, and without a single thought in his head, Ludwig pushed himself inside of Gilbert until they were one. A strange feeling flowed through Gilbert at that moment. It wasn't just the normal pleasure that washed over every nerve in his body; this time it felt like his bones were liquefying from the immense pleasure.

Their groans and moans were scattered at uneven intervals, but in time their noises were in sync with each other as Ludwig thrust hard in Gilbert. Their hearts beat in tune with the other as they climaxed. Gilbert nearly screamed out his brother's name, as Ludwig moaned Gilbert's name deeply; the two noises contrasting with each other.

Ludwig's mind was completely shorted out after as he slumped back into his chair. Gilbert stayed bent over the desk for a moment or two, waiting for his breath to even out before he stood up straight. Without a word, he reached down to pull up his pants and quickly re-clothed. The blonde watched, a bit confused. Why was Gilbert rushing? Did he do something wrong?

Gilbert made his way around the desk, walking with a small limp. He stood facing the door for a moment. "It won't hurt you to kill your own people. It'll only hurt me. I was the original country. The original Empire. I have the choice to take and give, and I take the pain from you. I don't want you to hurt." It was so unlike the Prussian to speak like this. Ludwig's mind was barely making the connections.

"Now, pull up your pants. You'll look unprofessional." With that, Gilbert opened the door and left.

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Please review, my dears!


	2. Your innocence is mine

"_Apples and honey. The jam in the tea is apricot." _A masculine voice sang in a soft whisper. His hand brushed against a tea cup on the table. There it was… He grabbed the handle and daintily brought it up to his lips, taking a sip.

Ahh, yes. The smell of rusting iron metal met his nostrils. How alluring… the scent was addicting. His mouth was watering for more. So he indulged himself, just this once, by taking another sip of that red tea. _Mein gott…_

The man reluctantly put his cup down. Really, he would have rather chugged the contents inside the little piece of china if he wasn't a gentleman. There weren't many gentlemen in the twenty-first century anymore.

The room was dark; only the moonlight streaming in from the window illuminated the room. In the center of the room was a long, marble dinner table. There were enough chairs to fit fourteen other men, plus himself; fifteen in all. The other fourteen chairs were covered with white sheets. The man sat at the middle of the table, facing large windows. Snow bled from the sky outside, making the house unbearably cold.

February 25th.

The man seemed to be contrasting with the darkness surrounding him. His white hair shone especially bright in the moonlight. His skin so pale that it almost matched with the ghosts he saw sitting in the chairs around him. Half-lidded red eyes pierced through the black darkness. They matched the color of his tea.

Oh, that tea. He wanted more. Just once more, he would indulge himself by taking another sip. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips as he put the tea cup down again.

"So to begin. We have a storage problem in Germany, with these Jews…" The ghost of Heydrich said next to the pale man, matter-of-factly. Eyes glanced over at the ghost who sat in his covered seat, hands clasped together on the table, leaning forward, looking everyone over. His almost-platinum blonde hair was slicked back; Heydrich's blue eyes almost as piercing as the set of red ones.

Silent chatter erupted from the ghosts. The white haired man looked down at his feast he set out before himself. A beautiful tea set was spread out around him, along with matching plates and silverware. The main dish looked like a rare piece of meat; red as those eyes. He picked up a fork and a knife, about to cut into the delectable piece of meat…

"I'm sorry," The man said suddenly. All the ghosts looked at him. "Why can't you just shoot them?"

"Didn't you just hear him? It is the worst thing for our soldiers to be doing. They are women, they are children, and soldiers have a sense of honor, sir." Dr. Joseph Bühler said, trying to sound respectful.

"There's plenty if honor in following orders." The pale man frowned as he spoke.

"No, Gilbert Dietrich." Heydrich deadpanned.

"There is." Gilbert said stubbornly.

"No, there is not. Eleven million, or even half that number executed in small batches, would be foolish to undertake. It would be an inefficient use of time, manpower, and bullets. No… gas is much more efficient and less public." That bastard perfect Aryan said, his voice fading from Gilbert's hearing.

The man, now christened Gilbert, looked back down at his meal. How bothersome… Heydrich and Gilbert went through this every year since 1947, and yet still could not reach an agreement with each other.

February 25, 1947; his Deathday. The day those jackass Allied powers dissolved Prussia in a reign of bullets.

"_The little bluebird escapes from its basket, gets beaten in the rain and gets its wings torn cleanly off."_

This time, Gilbert did cut into his steak; rosy juices pouring out from it. He bathed the chunk on his fork in this fluid and then lifted it to his mouth. A bubblegum tongue flicked out to lick it. A smile came to his face showing off his pretty perfectly straight teeth. That chunk of meat was devoured in an instant.

Bittersweet taste burst out from the meat as his teeth sunk into it; the flavor coating his taste buds. This must be what power tastes like. A long time ago, he knew what it tasted like; what it felt like, but time had made him forget.

Oh how the memory fades with each tick of the clock.

"In Riga, Latvia, 27,800 I have some responsibility for," Lange's voice sliced through Gilbert's thoughts, just as his knife had sliced through that meat again. "I stood by with my men and allowed Latvian civilians to kill each other in mobs. The ones that managed to crawl out, still alive, were 'evacuated' as we were ordered. Not exactly war, is it? And gas chambers about to come?"

"This is more than war. There must be a different word for this." Kritzinger muttered from across the table.

"Try 'chaos'." Lange suggested, innocently.

Power is chaos. Gilbert distinctly remembered chaos. It had many different tastes to it, almost cancelling each other out. That's not what he wanted! No! He wanted more of this 'Power' that he could not remember.

Angrily, he stabbed his fork into the meat, moist maroon spraying in different directions. As if remembering something, Gilbert slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder at the fireplace behind him. Red eyes met with dull emerald ones. The body was curled up in itself on the heath of the fireplace. The person was lying in a puddle of congealed fluid, just like the meat on Gilbert's plate.

Gilbert glanced at his feast and took a second teacup, excused himself from the plotting ghosts to walk slowly over to the small man curled up in the fetal position.

The man tried to shrink in on himself; visibly trembling as the pale man crouched down. Gilbert used his free hand to grab at the man's face, pulling him up so that he could make his prey drink. _"Wasn't it delicious? Come, let's sing again, Alesander." _The German man, Gilbert, sang to the Czech man, Alesander.

The Prussian hummed happily as a scream tore through Alesander's throat. Poison was slowly beginning to invade the Czech Republic's veins.

With new energy, Gilbert stood up and spun on his heels, stalking back to his seat at the table. That country's screams reminded him of his own on that night so long ago…

* * *

Midnight. 12:00 a.m.; 1942. That's when the Final Solution was set in motion. That's when Gilbert's screams ripped through the German mansion.

Those screams were what sent Ludwig, Germany, running to his brother's room. The door flung open as Ludwig frantically tried to find the light switch on the wall.

12:05 a.m. As suddenly as those screams started; they stopped. Ludwig's ears rang painfully from the aftermath of the piercing voice. The younger German froze in his spot, hand on the light switch.

Heavy breathing was coming from the opposite side of the room. Fear and panic gripped at Ludwig's heart; a lump in his throat made it impossible to speak.

"_Apples and honey. If I mix their red and gold, will it turn black, the same color as the sky?" _A giggling voice sang out to Ludwig. The voice was suddenly up close to him; hot breath on his face. It made Ludwig jerk away, his back hitting the wall behind him.

Gilbert could feel his people's pain. It was like a blanket was laid over his mind; blurring everything that passed through his brain. It blurred the fact that Gilbert had _chosen _to take all this pain himself instead of splitting it between him and his brother. Gilbert had felt the need to protect his younger brother from his mistakes.

No! Why would he do such a thing! No one country could take this! It would surely tear them apart; it would drive them to insanity. This pain…

Nails were scratching at the wall on either side of Ludwig's head. A shudder involuntarily went down the blonde's body as he was trapped between his elder brother's arms. Shifting awkwardly, Ludwig managed to turn the lights on.

The sudden bright light cut through Gilbert's hazy mind, like a second of merciful peace. Bloody eyes looked onto his younger brother's beautiful features. In that moment, the pain was forgotten. It was strange how one knew when pain was there, but forgot when pain was not there…

During that brief time lapse, Ludwig sucked in air hastily. He nearly choked on his own spit by doing so, but all was justified from what his blue eyes saw. In a timeframe of a couple minutes, his elder brother looked like he had fallen from a ten story building.

The Prussian hissed and squeezed his eyes shut. White hot pain burst forth after that second of peace. The dam holding back the pain was broken down; releasing all of its molten pain.

The albino German's face was bleeding profusely; blood streaming from his nose and out his mouth. He already had large purple and blue bruises marking up his chest. Cuts and, what looked like bite marks, were bleeding alongside those bruises.

"Don't look at me," Gilbert demanded in a harsh whisper. He buried his face into his younger brother's chest seeking some comfort. No, he couldn't let his Ludwig see him like this. It would forever ruin what little innocence the boy hand left.

Ludwig didn't say anything. Instead, he turned the light back off and lead his elder brother to his bed. Gently, he laid his brother down onto the bed and climbed in with him. Ludwig wrapped his arms possessively around Gilbert's slim waist, holding the elder in a protective embrace. It reminded Gilbert of what he used to do as Germany blossomed into a great country.

Warm, desperate lips collided almost painfully with Gilbert's. Their teeth clacked as Prussia, through all the pain, managed to kiss those lips back. His brother needed comfort, and the albino tried to give him the comfort through the kiss.

Gilbert grimaced from the tight, possessive grip Ludwig had. The pain and anguish of a million of his people was placed solely on him and he couldn't stand it. Even their kiss was violent and almost carnivorous.

When day broke; Gilbert was gone.

* * *

The villa at 56–58 Am Grossen Wannsee. That's where he went and where he was now, thoroughly enjoying his feast. This villa was where the Wannsee Conference took place; the conference that decided the Final Solution.

Fifteen men to decide the fate of millions of people; that's all it took.

Gilbert looked back at the curled up country behind him. Green eyes stared, unfocused, in front of him. How boring; the country died.

Gilbert finished the meal set in front of him. How the heart of a country tasted. It added power into his weakened body…

Prussia would become his own countryonce again. He would be able to face his brother without shame. Maybe, if he was an Empire once again, he could restore Ludwig's innocence…

The Prussian poured himself another cup and drank. The blood helped warm up his body from the inside. Ah! That's what he should do!

Gilbert stood up from his seat and went over to the limp body of Alesander. He pushed and shoved it into the fireplace. With a happy smile, he fished his lighter out from his pocket.

The albino flicked the lighter, a small flame bursting to life. He moved that flame over to a not-yet blood soaked piece of clothing and watched as it caught fire.

He had felt fire lick his skin once.

* * *

Gilbert was in the Wannsee manor by himself. He had settled in this place after he left his brother that day. The only other person in the manor with him was his cocky butler who helped provide some comic relief in the Prussian's life.

His butler, Sebastian, was such an egomaniac that his motto was, "After all, I'm just one hell of a butler."

That stupid idiot…

It had been over two years after the Final Solution was set in motion, making it October, 1944. So many unspeakable things had happened to the country since then. Only his butler, Sebastian, seemed to be able to handle the situations at ease.

Sebastian was Prussia's connection to Germany, and at the moment, the butler was away delivering a message to Ludwig.

The albino was sitting in front of the fireplace; an emotionless mask on his face. There was no point anymore in expressing pain. It was all too unbearable anyways.

But this, this was new.

It started out as slight heartburn and quickly burst into flames around his heart. Gilbert clutched his chest, doubling over. It didn't stop there though, oh no. The burn spread all over his body. A loud gasp came from his lips unexpectedly. Oh _gott_. It burned!

Wide red eyes looked down at his hands. The skin on the palms of his hands was seared off, clearly showing the muscle underneath. Emotion finally made itself known on Gilbert's face; fear of dying. No! He would not die before he returned to his brother! _Nein! _

The invisible fire ate away at his skin like a hungry caterpillar on a leaf. Gilbert's body arched with pain, causing him to fall out of his chair and onto the ground. It felt as though nails were being hammered into his hands and feet. Quite literally, holes tore right through his skin, muscle, and bone. Small needle-like cuts began to cut into his head, making blood stream down his face.

This wasn't just happening in Germany, this was happening in _his _country. His Prussia. His people, not just the Jews, were being crucified. He could feel it; Gilbert could practically see it. Men were killing and crucifying his people to their houses. Was it Russians killing his men? They looked like Nazis. Why would Nazis be killing loyal Germans? It had to be Soviets… Yes…

"Master!" A voice shouted out from the doorway. There was his butler doing everything he could to ease the pain. Gilbert's butler… the man who had witnessed all the gruesome wounds inflicted on Prussia's body, still by his side. Would his loyal butler end up like his loyal German people?

Gilbert stared up into his butler's eyes. His back arched at what seemed to be an impossible angle against Sebastian; Gilbert breathed out five words to his obedient butler, "I don't want to die."

* * *

Warmth spread against the Prussian's skin. The room was slowly warming up as the fire crackled and popped. Gilbert went back to his seat for the last time, wondering if the Czech Republic was burning down; its people's flesh burning off…

"Do we have any disputes left to face here, either with my authority or with that we have agreed? General?" Heydrich's voice drifted back into Gilbert's mind. Heydrich looked at General Müller to his right.

"Let us astonish Charles Darwin." Müller announced.

"I second the motion. This is our most important war." Klopfer agreed, raising his glass of wine before quickly downing it.

"We are discussing the inevitable and bringing it about in the most practical way under one command. I have no dispute with that, I understand the realities. And indeed, count on my support." The man next to Klopfer, Kritzinger, nodded.

"Proceed." Hofmann, of course, agreed.

"I agree." Dr. Georg Leibbrandt said, his eyes glued to the table.

"If you are to do it, then force-feed it. Speed it along. Our situation, such as in Warsaw, is difficult, edging towards disastrous. Thank you." Dr. Alfred Meyer was all for the notion. He wanted the Jews out of his city as fast as humanly possible.

"...Oh, yes. What can I say? My enthusiasm is boundless." Dr. Wilhelm Stuckart said in a very unenthusiastic voice.

"Obviously." Undersecretary Martin Luther deadpanned.

"Sorry?" Heydrich asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"I trust my enthusiasm is clear. Yes!" Mr. Luther nodded vigorously.

"Neumann?" Heydrich asked, urging the men on.

"I would like to know that adequate labor will still be available..." Erich Neumann frowned. "But I suppose you have my approval."

"Major Lange?" Heydrich was becoming impatient as he urged the men on.

"Yes." Was all Major Lange said in response.

"I would like to urge that speed that Dr. Meyer asked of you. The Poles are not as disciplined as we Germans." Dr. Joseph Bühler said with a condescending tone to his voice.

"Colonel?" Heydrich didn't like that tone of voice, so he quickly moved on.

"I thoroughly approve and I'm anxious to start. I look forward to working with your office." . Eberhard 'Karl' Schöngarth said, clearly sucking up to Heydrich like a student would do to his teacher.

"The sooner, the better." Dr. Roland Freisler: said without needing to be prompted by Heydrich. A small smile was on the Aryan's lips. All eyes turned to Gilbert now, awaiting his answer.

"Do you agree with the Final Solution, Mr. Dietrich?" Heydrich wanted to get this over and done with so that he could leave this mansion behind. Eighty-five minutes had been long enough in this place.

Red eyes scanned each one of the ghost's faces. Then… "No." His voice was commanding and deep; asserting his authority as a country to these other men.

The ghosts began to wail and scream as they cursed him a thousand times over. Their transparent bodies twisted themselves into deformed corpses of the human bodies. Their ghostly bodies mirrored how each one of the men were killed for being a part of Hitler's army. The bodies deformed until there was nothing left in their seats.

If only he could have had a say in that meeting way back then. Maybe, just _maybe _the war could have ended.

Prussia would become great again.

* * *

Ludwig stood outside of the Wannsee villa, staring at the smoke coming out of the chimney. He was bundled up in the latest military winter clothes. It had been at least eight-five minutes that the German country had been standing out in the cold winter night, spying on his elder brother.

That smoke… it smelled like something familiar…

Like… like _bodies. Bodies being burned in those huge ovens. _

"Gilbert…"

* * *

_A/N: This chapter is back up! I changed and took out some things... I hope you enjoyed it! Gilbert is CRAZY MAN. CRAZY._

_Pleeease review. Thank you! Hope you enjoyed it!_


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